Harry Gets Dissed
by elleponathue
Summary: Where do I start? Love well written Harry parodies where all the characters get their share of the diss? This is your fanfiction. The story gets better as the chapters go on so keep reading, that's if you started reading in the first place... r&r if ya wa
1. Chap1: Rap Stars & Fast Cars

DISCLAIMER: Not only do I not own the Harry Potter franchise, I also am not in ownership of any of the characters/names that appear in this story, nor am I belonging to anything except breif parts of the plot that aren't excerpts and/or inspired from other films, books, tv shows, magazines or real life events. All characters in this story are made up, fictional, not real in their entirety, regardless if they may have similar names to real people, places or events.

A/N: This chapter was written in January 2005. Along with the rest of this story, there may be jokes that aren't as funny anymore. Laugh anyway, dammit!

HARRY GETS DISSED  
By Elle

CHAPTER 1: Rap Stars and Fast Cars

Harry Potter woke up on the morning of his birthday, at Privet drive, and groaned. He wasn't groaning because he was there, or because it was his birthday and he still had to make breakfast, he was groaning because it was soooo boring when the author starts the story off here, on this exact day, every year.

"C'mon, I'm Harry Potter, gimme some variety!" he murmured.

No Harry, we must respect Boss Lady Rowling's wishes. Harry hurrumphed.

Suddenly there was a violent tapping on his door.

"Yes, Aunt Petunia?" he said, grudgingly. No doubt she wanted him to make breakfast.

"It'sh not Art Pertunya" said a strange voice.

"Who the hell?" Harry said, rapidly sitting up in bed. What was going on?

The door swung open, and there was Adam Sandler, standing in Harry Potter's doorway.

"Well you wanted variety, didn't you, Harry?" he said in his Billy Madison voice.

"Be Gone" Harry replied, on his feet as he slammed the door.

"Very funny, author." He said, rolling his eyes.

Well you wanted variety. If you've changed your mind about variety, then don't go downstairs.

"Why…?" Harry said suspiciously.

"HARRY!" Aunt Petunia's screaming could be heard from downstairs, "GET DOWN HERE AND MAKE BREAKFAST FOR ALL MY GANGSTA-RAP FRIENDS!" she shrieked.

"Oh no you didn't." Harry said, shaking his head.

Oh yes I did!

Harry slowly descended the stairs, terrified of what he might see when he made it to the bottom. And he was damn right to be terrified. Aunt Petunia was standing, wearing a J-lo jumpsuit and lots of bling-bling, surrounded by various rappers, such as Dr Dre, Snoop Dogg, LL Cool J, Nelly, 50 Cent and, of course, their posse's. The Beastie Boys were lecturing Dudley on the rules of being a wigga, while Uncle Vernon was involved in a freestyle rap battle with Jay-z.

Harry sighed, "You couldn't even get Eminem? That's pathetic." He said.

Eminem is busy recording a song with Headmaster Dumbledore, I'm sorry, I didn't know you were a fan?

"I'm not a fan," said Harry, "I'm not a fan of any music, as J.K. Rowling refused to write me with any taste in popular culture at all." He complained.

Oh well, you get that. Better feed those hungry rappers before they bust a cap in yo' ass.

"Yeah, Yeah."

Harry busied himself making breakfast for the hungry emcees. When he was finally finished, and they were all bursting out of their baggy gangsta wear or stylish pimp-attire, the rappers and their respective posse's split, muttering about some track they had to lay down for some album or other, leaving Harry with the mess. Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia and Dudley also tried this trick, but Harry, being the sharp minded wizard he was, was on to the fact that none of his three remaining relatives had recording careers, and made them all sit in the corner and face the wall.

"Yeah, justice for Potter!" Harry said happily.

"Tell me again," said Vernon to his wife, "Why are we sitting in the corner?"

"Oh, honestly Vernon, it's because we were told to!" she replied. Vernon could be so dumb sometimes. Harry picked up his Hogwarts letter that was sitting conveniently on the table. He couldn't see it before because Dr Dre had been using it as a coaster for his Cristal Champagne.

He opened it up.

Dear Harry Pothead.. er, Potter. Sorry Harry, I couldn't resist. All the muggle school children say it, and it makes me laugh every time I hear it.

_Anyway, I regret to announce that Hogwarts has been blown up by the Al Queada network. But we rebuilt it and it's totally the same as it used to be, so really, I didn't even have to tell you that. So it's Albus: 1, Al Queada: 0. Those bastards. But anyways, I'm just doing this letter thing to remind you that you go to Hogwarts. Yeah, I know, it's like J.K. Rowling thinks her characters might forget what school they go to… and I 'spose if they do forget, it's her own fault anyways, she should have made them smarter. By the way, here's your booklist:_

_Charms: "The Standard book of spells, grade 6", by Miranda Goshawk_

_History of Magic: "Old Crap You Don't Need" by Pierce Brosnan_

_Potions: "Isn't Alan Rickman Gorgeous", by Professor Severus Snape_

_Herbology: "Can I Smoke it?" by Cheech & Chong_

_Transfiguration: "The Delicate Art Of Plastic Surgery" by Pamela Anderson_

_Care of Magical Creatures: "CEO Material" by Donald Trump_

_Divination: "Crossing Over" by John Edwards_

_Defence Against The Dark Arts: "Confessions Of An Heiress" by Paris Hilton_

_So, on a more personal note, how have you been lately? I'm sorry I don't call, or pay the child support when I should… Hey, wait a minute, I'm not your father, I don't owe you child support? What are you talking about?_

_I really shouldn't write these while I'm drunk._

_Sincerely,_

Albus Dumblebumblybeedore (Well you have to admit it is a funny name…)

"I think Dumbledore's going senile." Harry said, raising his eyebrows.

Suddenly, Harry heard the squealing of tires outside.

"Oh no. I hardly dare to ask."

Well, are you a fan of fast cars?

There was a knock on the door.

"I'll get it! I'll get it!" Harry squealed like a little girl.

"I do not squeal like a little girl!" he said indignantly.

Yes you do, take a listen to yourself, boy!

"Well HELLO!" Uncle Vernon said loudly, "_Are_ you going to get it? One of us would but you made us face the wall and we're not allowed to move."

"Damn right you're not moving. And I _said_ I'm getting the door, and that's what I'm _doing_, ok?"

Harry opened the door.

"Shit." He said. Paul Walker stood there, dressed in a bright t-shirt, jeans and black chuck's.

"Yo." He said, with a quick nod of his head.

"Who the hell-" Harry started.

"You don't know me, dawg?" he said, "Ain't you seen the fast and the furious? I'm Paul Walker, you know, Brian?"

Harry just stood there, scratching his head.

"Do – You – Like – Fast – Cars?" he said, really slowly.

"Um…"

"Look, Potter, I'm Ron's really cool American cousin. Do you like my ride?"

"Aw, it's alright, I 'spose." Harry said, "If you're related to Ron, where's your red hair and freckles?"

"Who cares, kid, this is fanfiction, and the author's _hardly_ JK Rowling, she's allowed a few major plot holes, here there and everywhere. Now come out and look at my tricked out _machine_!"

Harry went outside, looked at Paul's automobile, and let out a low whistle.

"I only know crap about brooms, so what the hell kind of car is this?" Harry said.

"Nissan Skyline R34 GTR, full body kit, turbo, Nos, all the extras. Tite, huh?"

"Quit showing off. Now let me get my firebolt, that's what I call _tite_!" Harry exclaimed.

"Whatever." Paul said, being little miss attitude, sticking his bottom lip out. His mother just happened to be driving past in her 1980 Toyota Corolla, and screamed out the window:

"Quit pouting, Paulie!"

"Quit stalking me, Mum!"

Ron jumped out of the back of Paul's car, and said to Harry:

"We're going to go stay at the Hilton! Get your stuff!"

"I already got it." Harry said.

"When? You've been here the whole time!" Ron said.

"Well, this is a story about magic and enchantment, lets just put it down to that, hey?" Harry said in a conspiratorial voice.

Ron gave a discreet nod of understanding, and tapped his nose.

"Loser." Harry muttered.

After Paul's credit card was declined from the Hilton, the trio set off to the Leaky Cauldron. When they arrived, a woman that Harry didn't recognise ran straight up to them.

"Mum!" Ron cried, "What the hell have you done to yourself? You look like Michael Jackson!"

"I went to the clinic, and had a little nip/tuck. You don't like?" Molly Weasley asked.

"A little nip/tuck? A LITTLE? Mum, why'd you do it?" Ron cried, incredulous.

"Well, I always secretly wished that Lucious Malfoy would fall in love with me!"

"And did he?" Harry asked, fearing the answer.

"Yes!" she cried ecstatically.

"Lookin' like freakin' Shrek?" Marlon Wayans cried.

"Oh my god, Marlon, I'm such a big fan of your work… Where'd he go?" asked Ron.

"I think he only had a one liner." Said Paul.

"Hey, it happens." Harry said.


	2. Chap2: Green Monsters & Aussie Bands

DISCLAIMER: Not only do I not own the Harry Potter franchise, I also am not in ownership of any of the characters/names that appear in this story, nor am I belonging to anything except brief parts of the plot that aren't excerpts and/or inspired from other films, books, tv shows, magazines or real life events. All characters in this story are made up, fictional, not real in their entirety, regardless if they may have similar names to real people, places or events.  
Also, one of the comments Harry makes about Arabs in this chapter is just a joke directed at Harry concerning how stupid some people are regarding some of the stuff that's going on in the world today. It's not a racist remark, though my construction of Harry does have him acting quite bigoted, small minded and idiotic in future chapters and any comment he might make is purely to contruct his character further and is not particularly my opinion. If anyone has any problems with any jokes in my story then don't hesitate to lemme know and I can deal with it.

A/N: This chapter was also written a long time ago. Before the death of one of my country's most embarrassing yet awesome legends, Steve Erwin.

Chapter 2: Green Monsters and Aussie bands

"Hey Ron…" said Hermione. They were chilling in the casino the leaky cauldron had just built, "This is really hard to say… but…"

"Yes…?" Ron said, positively drooling.

"Well, I'm just gonna come right out and say it… Ron, I'm in love with you! I always have been!"

"Oh Hermione, I love you too! I watch your every move, I've tapped your phone line, and I'm the one who's been stealing your underwear!" Ron cried. All his dreams have come true!

"Eeee… Um, well anyway, I love you, Ronald Weasley!" Hermione declared.

Ron sighed. "I love _you_, Hermione Granger." Ron went to kiss her.

"PSYCH!" Hermione yelled, "YOU TOTALLY FELL FOR IT! YOU SHOULD HAVE SEEN YOUR FACE!" Hermione nearly doubled over in hysterics, clutching her stomach.

"Gimme five, Hermione!" Harry laughed, slapping hands with Hermione.

Ron went bright red. Then he started to go a little green.

"You're making me angry." He said, sinisterly. "You wouldn't like me when I'm angry."

Suddenly, his clothes began to rip as his limbs started to grow, and muscles bulged from his arms and legs. He was now as green as the shirt Paul was wearing today. Or Harry's eyes. Go me.

"Oh Ron! Put it away!" Harry cried

Ron picked up Hermione in his fist, and climbed to the top of the Empire State building.

"If this isn't the worst crossover between Harry Potter, The Incredible Hulk and King Kong, then I dunno what it is." Hermione said between horror movie screams.

"Hermione!" cried Harry.

"Ron!" cried Molly.

"Molly!" cried Lucious

"Harry!"

"Fred!"

"Arthur! It's not what it looks like!"

"George!"

"Cornelius!"

"Narcissa! It's not what it looks like!"

"Ginny!"

"Fiona!"

"Shrek!"

"DONKEY!!!"

Suddenly there was complete silence. A figure dressed in a black suit and black sunglasses appeared from the fog that just happened to roll in.

"The name's Smith. Will. Smith."

"Oh My God! I'm a huge fan!" cried Arthur Weasley.

"Now let's take this Hulk _out_!" Will yelled in his baritone voice.

"Don't kill him! That's my son!" Molly cried.

"Yeah, I can see the resemblence!" Will yelled, "And that was _not_ a sarcastic remark!"

"Don't hurt him, Will!" Molly cried. She was well aware that she looked like Michael Jackson, but she was more upset that this _I, Robot_ star was implying that her son also looked like the nasally challenged prince of pop. Molly always thought of herself as original. Ain't nobody gon' copy Molly Weasley.

"No, I'm just gonna knock him out for a few chapters because he's a pretty useless character." Will said, and he fired his future-looking gun, and Ron suddenly turned back into the old Ron, except for the fact that he was now unconscious.

"You know, I have the strangest feeling that that could have been done without knocking him out." Hermione said with a slight frown.

"Yeah, well, Uh…" Will said, loosening his collar, "The thing about that is…"

"Don't make excuses, Will, we're thanking you!" Harry said.

"Oh. Well I dat case, any chance of a whiskey and a nice biscuit? I ain't eaten in days" Will said, rubbing his stomach.

"Get the hell outta here, freeloader." Said Paul.

"Oh well, back to the future, I guess." Will got in Michael J Fox's time travelling car from _Back to the Future_, and disappeared in a set of flaming tracks.

"So long, time scum." Paul said, spitting on the ground.

"What's your beef with Will Smith?" Harry asked.

"I dunno, we just both appear in movies involving cars, I guess there's a bit of rivalry."

"Um… I have a question?" Hermione said, "Paul, are you becoming a regular character?"

"I'm not actually sure, I spose I have been here for a bit longer than a standard guest role." Paul said, scratching his scruffy blond hair.

"Hey I know, let's ask the author." Harry said.

CRICKETS CHIRPING. TUMBLEWEED BLOWING. RANDOM PERSON COUGHING.

"That's odd," said Harry, "I wondered why she wasn't making any smartass comments."

Go buy some schoolbooks, Harry.

"Ahh, there she is. I missed that." Harry said

"Where'd you go?" Hermione asked.

I had to answer nature's call, what's it to you, afro?

"Oh, testy testy!" Hermione said.

Go buy some books! NOW!

"I don't see why we have to go buy schoolbooks. We've done it every year. Diagon Alley is just so passé." Harry said, yawning.

"I suppose Rowling just wants some kind of routine." Hermione surmised.

"Rowling wants, Rowling wants, Rowling wants. It's all about what Rowling wants." Harry complained bitterly, "What about what Harry wants? Hello!"

"She gave us life, Harry! How dare you!" Hermione gasped.

Harry stuck his tongue out at Hermione. Paul's mum drove past again in her 1980 Toyota Corolla and yelled at Harry:

"Show some respect, boy!"

"Stop stalking Paul, Woman!" Harry retorted.

"Wow, look at this book list… Dumbledore really has let that place go to the dogs." Ginny said.

"The Arabs, actually." Harry said.

"Huh?"

"Nevermind. I don't know what I'm talking about. I love you, Ginny. See, that made no sense."

"You're weird." She said, shaking her head and walking over to the stage where there was a Jet concert going on in the middle of Diagon Alley.

"Hey look, it's Jet!" Hermione yelled over the chorus of "Cold Hard Bitch".

"Who cares," said Harry, "The author only put them in because she's Australian, and she wanted to slip some subtle Australian reference in somewhere. Well I'm on to you!!"

I was not! Jet are there because they're an awesome band and they also just happen to be playing in Diagon Alley today. Get over it.

Suddenly, a band came to the stage and started playing really good music, but none of the current characters recognised it.

"Who's this?" Hermione asked, intrigued.

Oh shit.

Suddenly, Steve Erwin jumped out in front of everybody, waving his arms about in that irritating way he does.

"G'DAY, YOU BEAUTIES! I'M STEVE ERWIN, THE TOKEN AUSTRALIAN THAT'S BEEN SENT TO EXPLAIN TO YOU FOREIGNERS WHO THIS BAND IS. THEIR NAME IS POWDERFINGER AND THEY'RE ONE OF THE BEST AUSTRALIAN BANDS THERE IS, BUT SINCE THEY DON'T HAVE AN AMERICAN RECORD DEAL LIKE OTHER AUSTRALIAN ACTS, THEY ARE ONLY KNOWN OF IN OZ. THAT NAME AGAIN IS POWDERFINGER. LOOK IT UP, KIDS!"

With that, Steve got on a crocodile and it flew him back to Australia.

Harry scoffed loudly. "Well it doesn't get more blatant than that!" he exclaimed.

"Uh… what just happened?" Paul asked.

"I think we just got preached to about Australia." Hermione said.

"Please quit it." Harry said, frowning.

Sorry. I just had to get it off my chest, y'know?

"Bad Author. Go Punish yourself." Harry said.

Harry, I'm not Dobby.

"No, Dobby's better looking!" Harry poked out his tongue.

Why you little!

CUT TO SCENE OF HOMER CHOKING BART

Don't mess with me, Harry James.

"I don't see why I can't just hop on the Hogwarts express and go to Hogwarts with you all." Paul complained, pouting and making sure his blond hair was still desirably scruffy.

"Hey Harry, on a scale of one to ten, how scruffy is my hair? What's the scruffy factor?"

"Ummm… six and a half? Seven?"

"Six and a half?! That's not even _near_ scruffy enough!"

"Listen, Paul, I've got to go. The train is about to leave." Harry said gently.

"Ok." Paul said quietly, and started pouting again.

His mother flew past in the Weasley's old Ford Anglia.

"Quit pouting, Paulie!" She screamed out the window.

"MUM! I'm in my thirties! QUIT stalking me!" he yelled like a thirteen year old.

"OHNO!" cried Ginny, "You're in your thirties?! I've been barking up the wrong tree!"

Woof.

"That's just not funny." Ginny said nastily.

"Wow… I'm flattered, If Paul Walker is the kind of guy you replace me with, then I'm proud!" Harry said loudly. He just wanted Draco Malfoy to hear him talking to Paul Walker.

"Harry, I never really liked you, it was only for the money and the fame." Ginny said, smiling.

"Oh." Harry said, looking hurt.

Harry should realise that the train is moving. It's about to leave.

Harry.

HARRY.

Get on the train.

Oh look. You've missed it now.

Running won't do anything.

You'll never catch up.

…

ok, so that was just pure luck.

Harry leaned out of the carriage and waved at Paul until he was out of sight. As soon as he couldn't see Harry anymore, Paul picked up his phone and dialled in a number.

"Hello? Antonio? I need you to make me an appointment. It's a scruffiness emergency."


	3. Chap3: The Hogwarts Express

DISCLAIMER: Not only do I not own the Harry Potter franchise, I also am not in ownership of any of the characters/names that appear in this story, nor am I belonging to anything except brief parts of the plot that aren't excerpts and/or inspired from other films, books, tv shows, magazines or real life events. All characters in this story are made up, fictional, not real in their entirety, regardless if they may have similar names to real people, places or events.

A/N: Again, I implore you. I wrote this a loooong time ago. Hence the Queer Eye for the Straight Guy jokes.

Chapter 3: The Hogwarts Express and Girly Street Fights

"The train ride's always so boring." Harry muttered.

"But she puts it in every time." Hermione complained.

There was a knock on the compartment door. Harry checked his watch.

"Looks like it's about time for another Malfoy/Potter altercation." Harry yawned.

Booooorrriiinnggg.

"Come in." Hermione said. She was daydreaming about Johnny Depp. He could find her Neverland anytime.

Instead of a silky-haired dumb blond, the pair was confronted by some one who resembled a miniature Michael Jackson.

"Mrs Weasley?" Hermione said uncertainly.

Eyes widened. "No!."

"Draco?" Harry guessed, incredulous.

"NO!" it cried, "NEVILLE!"

"What did… What…" Hermione attempted to speak. Sure, Mrs Weasley, it can be expected of, but _Neville_? Surely not…

"I had a bit of-"

"Plastic surgery, Yeah, we guessed." Harry said, "So you had the same plastic surgeon as Molly Weasley?"

"How did you guess?"

"We uh… can see some similarities in his work. You know, small things, like the collapsed nose and blood red lips." Hermione said, attempting to stifle a giggle.

"Wahhhh!" Neville cried, and ran from the compartment.

A few seconds of silence later, Draco Malfoy burst in, along with Gregory Goyle.

"Where's Vincent Crabbe?" Harry said lazily. He was so over this rivalry. It was so passé.

"He… er." Harry waited for Draco to finish, but he never did.

"So, how have you been, Draco?" Harry said. He was lying along the seat of the compartment.

"I've been ok… Um… How have you been?" Draco asked. His father had always taught him to be polite.

"Alright, hey, I didn't see you at Diagon Alley this summer, I thought that we were meant to have a big altercation? Jet and Powderfinger were playing."

"Powderwho? Well, sorry I didn't turn up for the altercation. I was at the Slipknot concert in Knockturn Alley. Do you want to have that altercation now?" Malfoy asked.

"Slipknot were playing? Damn, and I missed them." Harry frowned.

"You're too much of a pansy for slipknot. You have to be hardcore for Slipknot." Malfoy sneered.

"I'm hardcore! You, however, are a queer little dumb blond!" Harry shrieked.

"Ohhh! You better be careful, I might come over there and mess up your hair!" Draco squealed.

Harry's eyes widened. "You wouldn't dare!", he gasped.

Malfoy leapt from the doorway onto Harry so that his knees were on Harry's chest. Then he started digging his knuckles into the top of Harry's head, shrieking "NOOGIE! NOOGIE!".

"Help! Hermione! He's using Dark Magic on me! Powerful, dark, dark magic!"

"Harry," Hermione said sympathetically, "That's a Noogie. It's a muggle attack children use. Surely Dudley used that one on you?"

"Actually," Harry said between squeals, "Dudley never beat me up at all! I just said that in an attempt to get taken away from the Dursley's. But it didn't work and J.K. Rowling thought that it would be great for the plot, so it stuck!"

"Interesting." Hermione said, taking notes.

"Hi ladies!" said Carson Kressley of the Fab 5 from the doorway of the compartment.

Harry screamed a long, high pitched scream that lasted for about half a minute.

"This is just like when the Dementors came on the train when I was in grade 3, but much, much worse, and I'm guessing that what lays beyond a Queer Eye's kiss is much worse than the fate that lays beyond a Dementor's kiss!" Harry screamed.

"No no no, darling, we want to do a make-over on one of the professors at your school!" Kyan Douglas said.

"Professor Snape." They all said at the same time, except for Draco, who said "Me."

"Can we ride with youse?" Jai asked,

"no, no, no, no and no." Harry said, pointing at each Queer Eye in turn.

"Ok Queers, let's _motor_!" Carson said, with a flick of his hand, and the Fab Five spun on their heels in unison and strutted from the compartment.

"That Kyan has a lot of style!" Draco admired.

Suddenly the compartment door slid open again, and Charlie Sheen burst in.

"Quick everyone!" he yelled, glee on his face, "Hilary Duff and Lindsay Lohan are street fighting in compartment five!" and with that, he was outta there, running back to compartment five. Harry and Draco scrambled over each other to get to the door, and then shot off, hot on the heels of Charlie. Hermione made sure there were still a few exposures left in her camera, before setting off for compartment five. The tabloids would pay big money for this!

Hilary was the favourite, apparently, if you went by what Lee Jordan said, as he was taking bets. "One dollar ninety five for Hilary, four dollars seventy for Lindsay!"

"Lee, we're in Britain. We say pounds." Harry informed him.

"_Actually_," Hermione said, "We're magic, and we say Galleons, sickles and knuts."

"Oh, details, details." Lee said dismissively, "Care to place a bet, lil' lady?" he said to Neville.

At that moment, Lindsay pulled out a machete with a manic grin.

"ODDS HAVE CHANGED! ODDS HAVE CHANGED!" Lee announced at the top of his lungs.

"Your fringe is too long!" Lindsay yelled at Hilary, "Somebody should _cut_ it!" and with that, Lindsay sliced the machete along Hilary's blonde fringe, leaving a perfect style cut in her wake. Hilary stopped, and demanded a mirror from Hermione.

"I don't carry a mirror, why do you think I look like this?" Hermione said.

"True." Hilary said, shrugging.

"I have a mirror, Hilary, I'm a huge fan!" Arthur Weasley said, passing her a pink mirror.

Hilary examined her hair thoroughly, before grinning that open mouthed grin she does.

"I LOVE it!" she exclaimed, "Thanks Lindsay! Let's go get soda's!"

And with that, Hilary and Lindsay linked arms and skipped off to the mall. An angry crowd began to swarm over Lee, demanding their bets back.

"NO TAKE BACKS! TO TAKE BACKS! READ THE FINE PRINT!" came his muffled voice.

"Damn." Charlie Sheen said.

"I got what I need!" Hermione said, patting her camera.

"If that's the kind of thing that's going on in the train this year, I think we should do a little exploring." Harry declared.

"Agreed." Draco announced.

They knocked on the door of compartment six. They could her pounding rave music from inside. It took a while for somebody to open the door. The somebody was a huge bouncer, who stood blocking the way of Harry and Draco.

"Get outta here, kid. This is 21 years plus." He said. Behind him, Harry could see strobe lights and people dancing madly.

"Was that- Was that just John Travolta?" Draco said, straining for another look.

"You dint see nothin'." The bouncer said, waving his arms around mysteriously, and closed the door. Harry and Draco looked at each other.

"Was it really him?" Harry asked Draco in awe.

"Well, I think so, I saw him dancing in the white suit thing." Draco said. He couldn't believe he'd just seen John Travolta, in the flesh.

"Sure it wasn't Elvis?" Harry inquired.

"Quit it, now you're confusing me." Draco complained, "I'm sure it was John. Well, at least I think…" Draco scratched his white blond hair.

Suddenly, Harry's owl, Hedwig descended on them.

"You've been ignoring me." Hedwig said.

"Well before you were just an owl, but now you can talk and you sound like Angelina Jolie." Harry said, "So now I guess you're worthy of a plot. Congrats, Hedwig."

"Why, thankyou." Hedwig said, "So what's been up in your neck of the woods?" she asked.

"Well I'm in a parody. It sucks ass." Harry pouted.

Paul's mum just so happened to be driving along next to the train. She poked her head out the window and yelled:

"Quit pouting, Harry!"

"GO STALK PAUL, WOMAN!" Harry screamed back, at the top of his lungs.

"Ok." She said timidly.

"I was not expecting that." Harry said, surprised.

"I think you hurt her feelings, Harry." Draco accused.

"Shut-up, Malfoy." Harry pouted. But nobody came to yell at him for pouting. He pouted harder. Still nobody. He pouted so hard that when the snacks cart lady came past she got the wheel of the snacks cart stuck on Harry's bottom lip. Harry screamed. Hermione came out to see what all the fuss was about, and she also tripped over Harry's lip. Suddenly there was a forty car pileup on Harry's bottom lip. If Harry was able to talk, and wasn't in so much pain, he would have informed me that cars don't drive around inside a train. But since he's blinded with pain, I think I'll get away with it.

Meanwhile, Draco was grieving. Draco's day is a busy one, so if he needs to grieve for something, he can only do it for two minutes. He was grieving because he had lost a friend. Well, not so much as lost…

Vincent Crabbe.

The infamous Vincent Crabbe.

Now the highly infamous _Vicky_ Crabbe.

He didn't wanna think about it anymore.

So he didn't. He fantasized about Christina Aguilera instead.

After Harry had his lip stitched up by Dr Dre (yes, he's a real Doctor, Dre's not one to falsely advertise), Harry realised that he didn't know who drove the train.

"Can you _drive_ a train?" he wondered aloud. He decided to go see, since J.K. Rowling never even thought to enlighten her readers about who gets all her precious characters to Hogwarts every book. He finally found the conductors cabin, after a lengthy search.

"It was at the _front_, how was I meant to know that?" Harry defended his intelligence.

He swung the door open, and a man turned around.

"Hi, I'm Tom Hanks. And _WELCOME_ to the POLAR EXPRESS!" he yelled.

"Oh crap, I think I've taken the wrong train!" Harry panicked.

"What did I say?" Tom asked.

"Polar Express." Harry said.

"Are you sure? I could have sworn I said Hogwarts Express."

"Nope. You didn't."

"Are you _sure_?"

"YES! YOU SAID POLAR, NOT HOGWARTS!"

"Don't hurt me!" Tom cowered in the corner. Then he fainted.

"Shit, now I gotta drive the train." Harry complained. And with that he took the steering wheel,

"The _steering wheel_?" Harry said, incredulous.

Yes. The steering wheel. And with that, Harry took the steering wheel, and began to drive, yes, _drive_ the train.

"I _drive_ the train with its _steering wheel_." Harry muttered sarcastically under his breath.

Suddenly, a telephone above Harry's head began to ring.

Harry picked it up.

"City Morgue." He said when he answered, giggling.

"It will be, if you don't listen to me." The voice on the other end said.

"Shit." Harry replied.

"There is a bomb on this train. If you don't keep it going over one hundred magical miles per hour, it will blow up."

"But I checked the train an hour ago," Harry said, perplexed, "There's no explosives on this train."

"Ah, but that's where you're wrong. It is a little known fact that witches and wizards are very flammable. Especially witches. Think of the witch burnings of the medieval times. And this train just so happens to be filled with witches and wizards!" The voice cackled.

"Oh great." Harry said sarcastically, "This is a scene from _Speed_. I wondered when this would come up. So where's Keanu Reeves and Sandra Bullock?"

Keanu Reeves is busy preparing for a Matrix reference later on in the fanfic, and Sandra Bullock's just boring and not really worth dissing for a story like this.

"Oh."


End file.
